


Through My Eyes

by pastelglow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Strangers, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Young Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23915470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelglow/pseuds/pastelglow
Summary: What it feels like to fall in love with a stranger.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Through My Eyes

Tousled hair in shades of cinnamon, caramel and gingerbread. 

His cheeks were slightly flushed, as well as the tip of his nose. His honey-coloured eyes were quickly moving left and right as he was reading a book. He looked positively engaged in whatever he was reading, as if he had forgotten the world around him. 

What a soft-looking man. He looked so cosy. Warm and gentle; even in the pale light of London's tube. Was it his slightly oversized, knitted jumper he was wearing that was giving him that cosy vibe? 

From the moment you first put your eyes on him, you started to make up a whole backstory of that stranger. Was he carrying around notebooks full of drawings in his old-looking leather bag? He could be an artist. Maybe he was making illustrations for books? 

But what if he wasn't the one drawing for books, but the one writing them? You imagined him sitting by a desk in the middle of the night, typing away. Maybe he wrote poems? No, if he was a writer, he was probably writing novels full of mystery with hints of romance and melancholy. 

Yeah. There was that hint of melancholy coming from him, but you couldn't really point out where it was coming from. 

Maybe he had the same worries as you. That certain loneliness that overcame you from time to time. That loneliness that was still there, even when you were with other people. That kind of loneliness, that made your heart cry for someone to fully pull you out from the darkness around you, into a place full of light and warmth. 

Did he live by himself? Again, your imagination ran wild. You saw him lying on an old and chunky two-seater, staring at the ceiling, clearly lost in thoughts. His apartment was furnished in the same colour palette as his clothes - tan and beige, shades of warmth. And some easy to maintain plants. Old fashioned, just like he looked like an old soul to you. 

How would it be to fall in love with him? 

As if he was reading your mind, he looked up at that very thought. 

You took him back from whatever place his book had taken him. He needed a second or two before he realized where he was, who he was. And as the corner of his lips turned slightly upwards, you believed that maybe he really was capable of reading minds. And maybe, in those two seconds, he was making up his very own story about you. 

He skidded sideways and gestured to the space he just cleared for you. Without any hesitation, you nodded at him in appreciation and sat down beside him. You knew your voice would come out weird and raspy, if you'd say your thanks out loud. And he didn't seem to mind, as his smile grew a little wider. You looked at each other for another second. Then, he returned his attention back to his book. 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. He smelled like spiced tea. 

Would you go for a cup of tea on your first date? And would he wake you up with a cup of tea on your one-hundredth date? 

It felt so natural, so easy to imagine your time together with him. All the same old places you knew and visited ever so often, suddenly felt so much more exciting as you imagined being there with him together. 

Things like going grocery shopping would suddenly be the thing to look forward to after a long day at work - if it would be with him. 

Visiting the park and reading books in silent together - what a nice idea that would be now that it was spring. 

He was a stranger. You had never seen him before, you did not know his name or his age. And yet, it was as if he just belonged there with you. And something would be missing without you. 

It was such a strange way of thinking, but you were sure you lost a piece of your heart to that stranger. Most likely, you would never see him again. But maybe - even it the possibility was almost non-existent - there would be a next time. 

And if there wasn't, you wouldn't be sad about it. At least, nothing could ever prove that he wasn't the way you imagined him to be. He would be the one, that enjoyed maple syrup on vanilla ice cream just as much as you did. His hugs would be just as warm as your bed on lazy Sunday mornings. And his smile would always be there to make your heart beat just that little bit faster. 

And then, the tube stopped. 

And the scent of warm spices still lingered in your nose as you walked home, longing for something that will never be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Did you ever fall in love with a stranger? Isn't it weird but also kind of sweet?


End file.
